by Flora Dain
Darnley looks stunning in black tie and tux. As we walk in I feel the thrill I always feel to be on the arm of the most striking man in the room, but tonight the link between us seems closer than ever. He stays by my side for a while, but finally touched my fingertips with his in a light, sensual farewell as people greet him and he drifts away.
Some of these people I met on our tour yesterday. Others I even know – there are one or two former colleagues from Boston here, advising on some of the training issues, but I’m soon drawn into a group of staff and trainees, all curious about the CEO’s new fiancée and, I strongly suspect, her freestyle antics in boats.
I still sense hostility from Freda. Her trademark black leather is transformed this evening into a tight-fitting cocktail dress. Some of the men nearby look distinctly nervous. We talk stiffly for a few minutes and then I circulate for a while. As I do I notice Darnley and Freda talking together.
Thirty minutes later they’re still talking.
I seek out Chet, hanging out shyly at the back of the room. I’m coaxing a few halting words out of him when I see Freda leave.
I stiffen as Darnley turns towards me. But the heat in his eyes sends a tremor through me. He walks quickly over, takes my arm and steers me towards the door while Chet sidles over to the buffet.
I gaze up at Darnley as excitement glows low in my stomach. ‘We’re leaving already?’
‘I’d like a drive in the moonlight. You done?’
His low murmur makes tiny hairs rise all over my arms. I swallow. ‘Sure. Now?’
He walks me quickly out to the car and soon we’re back on Route 12, with scrubland and coyotes for company. The air’s cold and clear. I huddle into my wrap as he turns up the heating. Behind us the distant snow-capped peak of Mount Hood gleams softly in the moonlight.
All at once he pulls to a halt at the side of the road. ‘Get out. I need some air.’
Surprised, I watch as he opens the door and walks a little way along the verge, facing away from me. Shivering, I join him and wind my arms around his waist.
‘I saw you talking with Freda. Is there some problem?’
He puts his arm loosely round my shoulders, but he’s still looking away from me. A muscle moves in his cheek. ‘Ella, have you had any contact with Ryan Mitchell since the summer?’
Whoa. Shock robs me of breath for a full second. I swallow. ‘Why?’
I hear an owl hoot in the distance.
‘That’s no answer,’ he says at last.
‘It’s such a strange question. And you’ve not answered mine.’
He’s still looking away from me. ‘We had a message from his former employer in Vegas. About why he fired him. Seems he was heading here.’
Shit. ‘Does a Christmas card count?’ I say lightly.
He looks down at me. ‘What happened to it?’
‘I threw it away. Anyway, why are we talking about Ryan out here?’
‘Because in my house walls have ears. Where did you throw it?’
I sigh, impatient now. ‘In the trash. What is all this?’
All at once he smiles. ‘I’m paranoid, I guess. Anybody ever tell you how pretty you look in the moonlight?’
I feel a wave of relief so acute I could weep. ‘Yes, they did.’
Instantly he scowls. ‘Oh? Who? Tell me and I’ll kill him.’
I hold him tight and press against him as the chill night air smarts in my nostrils and in the distance a lone coyote calls for its mate. ‘You did. Just now. And now can we get back in the damned car? I’m freezing my butt off out here.’
* * *
We drive back slowly. He has one hand on the steering wheel and one deep in my lap. He keeps his eyes on the road as always when he drives, but now and then I sense his glance sweep over me, hotter than usual.
Or maybe I’m feeling guiltier than usual.
When we get in the house he leads me into the sitting area and pulls me into his arms. Between us I feel warm pressure pulse against my lower belly as his erection stirs, firing an instant response somewhere deep in me.
‘For the last time, Ella, have you seen Mitchell lately? It’s important.’
I swallow and play for time. ‘He came to Camp Akela back in the summer. Why? You knew what he was like. You still let him into the heart of the family?’
He frowns, exasperated. ‘Akela’s my parents’ place. Apart from the security angle I’ve no control over their guests. Cousin Freda’s a regular visitor. She can bring anybody she likes. She said she had him under control. And I’m still waiting for an answer.’
This may be a deal-breaker. His dark eyes give nothing away but I can feel his body’s hunger. It burns in a low fire somewhere between our hips, where his swelling erection is pressing into me, its hot need as blatant as the bright moonlight streaming in through the windows.
If he senses my tingling response, his twitching manhood is the only sign of it. The thought is making me glow. All at once I want him so much I ache.
But first I have to decide. Should I tell him?
I lean over and kiss him on the cheek. ‘Darnley, now we’re engaged there’s something you have to know. If you want to marry me there will be times when you simply have to trust me. That’s what marriage is. On a night like this, and at a moment like this, I really, really don’t want to talk about Ryan. OK?’
It’s a feeble way to dodge his question, but I’m a terrible liar. Will he freak? Will he break it off? We’ve only been engaged a couple of weeks …
I wait for an explosion. Instead, his expression veils and he stoops and brushes his lips to mine.
‘OK.’ His look darkens. ‘Now can we fuck? I’ve watched you move in that dress all evening. I’m getting desperate.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
It’s like Darnley’s lit a fuse. I launch myself at him. Something we’ve been holding off for hours – possibly days – flares between us. He gathers me up in his arms and fastens his mouth on mine like I’m lunch.
With my arms round his neck I wind my legs round his waist and laugh into his kiss as he grips my thighs and carries me into the bedroom. We land on the covers and he peels away my slim dress, while I kick off my shoes and arch into his taut, curving embrace. He pushes away my panties, pinning me down with his knee as he slips off his tie.
His eyes glimmer as he sheds his jacket, loosens his shirt and leans down close. ‘We have a mutiny in hand, I seem to remember.’
I reach up to kiss him, laughing still, but deep down I quiver.
His eyes gleam as his murmur lowers a tone. ‘And you’re getting out of hand. You need some correction.’ He traps my wrists in one hand and holds them over my head, then presses me down so that I’m lying flat on the bed. With his free hand he explores me, easing his fingers under my taut bra straps, around my quivering navel, tracking every ripple of my sensitised muscles as I surrender to his touch. Soon every caress makes me arch to meet him, every brush of his lips sends arousal spiralling straight to my groin.
My nipples pucker and stiffen as he leans over to graze them with his lips, his tongue flicking and darting around my aureoles until I writhe underneath him. He scowls at me.
‘Keep still. Discipline, no question. Tonight we’ll spice it up a little. Stand up.’
He releases me at last, and motions me to stand by the bed, arms at my sides.
‘Turn around.’
He feasts on me with his eyes but when I try to speak his dark look warns me to silence. His grin warns me he’s counting my errors. Heat surges through me at the thought of what’s coming.
‘Strip. Slowly.’
‘Strip what? I’m already down to my underwear.’ I try not to giggle, heady now, while I slowly unfasten my bra and make dance moves. I splay my legs wide to show off my goodies as I peel away my stockings and run them through my lips with a true stripper flourish.
He rises to his feet, his eyes still locked on mine. I glance down at him. He’s huge. I reach out to touch him but he frowns.<
br />
‘Hey. That’s cheating. No hands.’ He runs his finger down my breastbone, his touch making me writhe. ‘Keep your hands at your back. Keep your eyes on mine.’
He slips his finger lower. I stand very still as it travels slowly down my body and pushes deep into my rosy mound, already shamefully glowing, warm with excitement. ‘Now we’ll try some subaru. Rope bondage. Time I flexed my knots.’
Knots? Rope? Ye gods …
And now I notice a heap of thick rope coiled near the bed like a snake.
His calm gaze glints with amusement. ‘Scared?’
I swallow.
‘Good.’ His slow smile sends a tremor through me. Down below I feel a throb. Soon I’m aching so badly I’m nearly numb.
‘Open your legs.’ He picks up the rope, uncoils one end of it and runs it lightly through his hands, solemn now. I’ve seen that expression before. It’s the dark, purposeful gleam he has when he handles a whip.
‘Open them wider. And keep your head up.’
I shiver. Fear and excitement blend and build as he walks slowly around me. The rope snakes through his fingers with a faint hiss. He looks me over with the critical gaze of a ballet-master fixing my position before I dance.
‘Just a few swats to start you off. Hold still.’
Shock roots me to the spot as he takes a step back and lashes my soft inner thigh. The rope’s made of coarse hemp, rough to the touch. It lands with a muffled thwack. It’s not painful exactly but it’s so sudden it scares me. So does the inexplicable need for him to do it again. And somewhere underneath lurks the thought that he’s planned this, imagined me snared in rope …
‘Don’t you use special rope for this? Softer?’
He grins, his teeth glinting. ‘Nope. I prefer it rough. Much more effective.’ He runs his finger over my dewy breast, where sweat’s already forming a light sheen. ‘Gets faster results.’
I stand very still, panting slightly as he walks all round me. Now he lashes at random, the strokes soft but relentless. He seems absorbed in what he’s doing, like he needs to acquaint every part of me with this new, sinuous toy before he starts in for real.
I close my eyes and bask in my arousal, burning hotter than ever under this soft rain of fire. The rope lands in a steady rhythm on my belly, my breasts, my backside and my thighs. Soon I tingle and burn, my hidden places swelling with want.
At last he pauses, and my eyes snap open. He’s scanning me, critically. He looks pleased.
I’m sparking all over, live as a wire.
‘Hold the position.’ This really matters to him.
Unexpectedly he leans close and kisses me on the lips. I respond willingly, emotional now. To my surprise tears prickle. And then I remember why – it’s guilt. I have a secret …
‘You OK?’
I jump, startled. ‘Yes. More than OK. That was …’ I tail off, uncertain how to describe it.
He smiles, his gaze thoughtful. ‘I know. I could see. Hold up your arms.’
Now he takes the rope in both hands and winds it around me a few times and then over and under me, knotting as he goes. His touch is deft and firm. Soon I’m bound up in a spider’s web of rope, like a swimsuit of knots.
At last he steps back and looks me over. ‘How’s it feel? Anywhere too tight?’
I flex a little and move my arms. ‘It’s scratchy. And it’s tight all over …’ I tail off. I feel trapped, and oddly shamed. But something about this is also mega-hot. ‘Honestly? I feel fine.’ I lick my lips. ‘Bound, and owned.’
His satisfied grin is ample reward as he leans forward and runs his hand over my trussed flesh, lingering on the swelling mounds of my bound breasts and the taut knotting trailing down to my thighs. ‘Excellent. Now for the money-knot.’
To my amazement that’s exactly what it is. As he tightens it, his expression fierce with concentration, I start to whimper.
‘But that’s … it’s pressing on my …’
He smiles slowly. ‘You don’t say? Bend over.’
Nervous now, I do it. He slaps both sides of my ass in quick succession and then does it again. I cry out as I jolt against the wicked little knot and my scorching money-spot, tormented by its stern rope binding at every move I make, explodes in a sudden massive climax.
The force of it almost throws me off-balance. He steadies me by the hips while I lean back against him, moaning with pleasure. I can feel his body ripple with suppressed laughter. Next moment he spins me round to face him and pushes me down, his hand warm on the back of my neck. His deep male aroma fills my senses as he frees himself.
‘All in one. See what you can do.’
His low command is all I need. I plunge over his monster, reddish now and achingly rigid from holding off from his own satisfaction all this time. I work him with my mouth, licking and tasting his taut ridges with eager darts of my tongue. As I do it arousal stirs again, excitement flickering deep down as every move makes the twin ropes tighten between my legs and pulls at that wicked, intimate knot.
He finally pumps into me and I linger as he softens, suckling helplessly as another massive climax erupts over me, flaring through my tightly bound body like sunshine, easing the hot glow in my loins and spreading it instead all over me in a warm, loving blanket of fire.
I’m to stay bound until morning.
* * *
I’m up early on workdays. He’s up early every day on business – no longer production deals or supply contracts, now he’s stepped aside from running his companies, but on more exotic stuff: setting up deals, discussions, cross-border negotiations with contacts in other time zones, sometimes other languages.
He’s on one of them now, talking rapidly in Spanish as he silently directs me to parade before him, naked but for the achingly tight rope corset he made me sleep in. This morning we woke at dawn, his usual time to start the day, still night-time for me.
Yawning, I slipped instantly out of bed and posed before him, desire already fizzing though my sleepy limbs like shaken champagne. Now, as he talks, sometimes in Spanish, sometimes in French, his dark eyes follow me as I parade around the room, pausing when he signals, bending over or raising one leg high in the air as directed. Finally he makes me arch back against the wall and lean on my fingertips to balance.
As he finishes a call he strolls over and looks solemnly down at me.
‘Can you undo me? I’ve got to go to work.’ I sound shaky.
He says nothing, his expression thoughtful. He runs a finger along my throat, from the tip of my outstretched chin over my arched breastbone, past my navel to where my quivering apex is splayed out, the tormenting knot still cruelly pressing home while my legs quiver, thighs aching and rigid, knees spread wide, ankles taut.
‘Can I at least stand up straight?’
He glances at his watch, unconcerned. ‘Hold the position. Have a good time last night?’
The spanking he gave me just before bedtime also sprang three more orgasms. And the hot action afterwards, when I slipped in beside him and clambered on top of him, gave me a few more. I lost count.
But he’s not done.
‘OK, you can stand up.’ Gently, he eases me upright. I flop against him, limp as a doll as he takes my face in his hands and finds my mouth, his kiss soft and determined, his tongue slow and meaningful in my trembling mouth.
‘Now bend over. Right down low.’ He holds my hips, supporting me. Surprised, I push my head down almost to the floor and splay my legs. At this angle the blessed knot has full power and another orgasm stirs even as I get into position.
‘Now hold still. And if you’re a very good girl and keep very quiet while we do this I’ll unlace you at the end of it. If not –’ he breaks off for a second and I hear a sinister chuckle ‘– you’ll wear it for the rest of the day.’
Heat flares. At the same moment his erection pushes at my swollen, eager places. All at once he slides in, slick and easy, gliding his full length and pounding into me as I hang in his clasp and sway ag
ainst the wall at every stroke.
Right on cue the wicked knot fires me once more and I jolt into yet another full-on climax. This time my spasms take revenge and almost at once I feel him groan, his thighs hard against mine as he fills me with his creamy pleasure.
When he finally pulls me upright I cling to him, limp and happy. I long for bed, but he’s already tidied himself, smoothed his hair and straightened his tie.
‘So unfair. You’re ready for the day while I’m still a quivering slutty mess.’
He grins, drops a light kiss on my forehead and rapidly unlaces me. ‘You’re a beautiful slutty mess. And you’ll kick ass the minute you get there. Have a good time.’
Swiftly he coils the rope and slips it back into the drawer, kisses me again and leaves.
Freed from my rope corset I feel strangely vulnerable. Free of his dark, penetrating gaze I feel lost. But now I have to go to work.
* * *
‘After yesterday I can guess what most of you are thinking …’
‘Like the Boss was being an asshole?’ The hard, cynical voice comes from a small, sandy-haired female standing at the back, arms folded. She’s in combats and she’s chewing gum. Her tough little chin hints she takes no prisoners.
I’m meeting my first group of the day, a dozen recruits from the rougher end of security, back here on a refresher course. I see from their files their literacy is patchy, so literature not really their thing.
Nor manners either, it seems. But they’re seasoned troops, used to discipline. Unlike me. My hardest task today will be to deal with the fact that most of them saw me openly with Darnley yesterday – and the ones who missed it will certainly have heard. How could he?
But the ferocity of her reaction surprises me. Female solidarity? Is she gay?
‘Remove the gum,’ I say quietly. ‘In drama class it slurs your speech. And in some circles your future employers may think it impolite.’
The room grows silent while I wait. I hold her gaze, my expression bland.
After a few moments she removes it.
‘And you are?’